


you turn away

by bookworm1805



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Stanford, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm1805/pseuds/bookworm1805
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night he leaves for Stanford you fuck one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you turn away

The night he leaves for Stanford you fuck one last time. Neither of you says a word—the words have all dried up in your throat, and what good have they ever done you? You can hear Dad’s final words to him ringing in your ear, “if you walk out that door don’t you ever come back” and your brother shouting back that  _fine, “you’ll never see me around here again”_. Words are poison, so there are no words and you fuck into him silently, desperately, eyes open because your baby brother is beautiful and he’s  _leaving_ , and though you’re not speaking aloud your body screams volumes, every push into him begging  _stay_  and every stroke of your hand on his cock  _I can’t do this alone_.

He clings to you, doesn’t thrust back but just wraps himself around you because there’s no more fight in him, lets you  _move_  him one last time. He tries to communicate with his body the things he can’t say,  _it’s not you_ with his mouth on your neck,  _I love you_ with nails scraping down your back,  _I’m sorry_ as his hips shallowly pulse up to meet yours. There’s a sense of finality looming in the shadows of his face but it doesn’t make you hurried—you roll into your brother slowly, deeply, wanting to bury yourself inside him so you’re never alone again.

You mouth his name against his wet cheek as you come, relish in the feeling of his release hot on your flesh and you fall asleep like that, connected to your baby brother with your cock nestled inside his warmth and wetness as he trails his lips across the tear-stained freckles on your nose like he’s committing them to memory.

When you wake up it’s dark and you’re alone, but the bed is warm next to you. You could catch up with him maybe, but you don’t. You pull the covers up and clutch them in your fist, and you don’t sleep soundly for four years.


End file.
